Push
by AwesomePecan2
Summary: This was the battle where they would die together, until they were reborn again. Until they could find a life where they could live and love and grow together at last.


**A/N: Hey guys! Not something I should be working on (what with my other fics I've neglected like the terrible parent I am) but I was so pumped for it that I finished it in about three days. Originally a one-shot for two OC's of mine, but I decided to plug in USUK because their personalities were similar at first, but then were replaced by USUK entirely. I have no regrets.**

**And throughout the fic, I make at least a good handful of allusions or references.**

**Disclaimer and info in Profile**

**XxXxXx**

Children

Being five years old, he didn't much believe or understand the concept of fate or true love. He knew he loved his mother and father dearly. He knew he loved his home and his family. He did not know what true love or fate was, but unusually enough, he found the concept of _forever and always _wonderful and beautiful.

The words always filled him with warmth and excitement and another feeling he could not describe. Being five years old, he was a quiet and thoughtful child though it wasn't unusual for a child of his kind to behave in such a way. But he thought about it daily with an innocent obsession only a child could possess, and with an innocently intense curiosity only a Warlock child could possess.

Three years later, when he and his parents traveled miles to visit the Lausun Kingdom, he still wouldn't grasp the concept of fate. And yet, when he first laid eyes on the young human prince, whose blue eyes sparkled like diamonds and whose fair hair glowed bright and messy, he thought that maybe, just maybe this boy would be able to help him understand what it all meant.

And it would be from their fated meeting and their gruesome separation that would bring forth the chain of events that would lead to their ultimate end.

Man and Animal

He caught a glimpse of the animal through the foliage; his prey. The hunter had finally found dinner to bring home for him and his family.

The hunter silently approached the unwise boar, raising his spear and taking aim. A snap of branches from above startled him from his concentration and, as luck would have it, his dinner. He darted through his hiding place with a cry and chased after the screeching boar. The beast twisted and darted swiftly in different directions, but the hunter kept up well.

Then the boar darted under a space too small for the hunter to follow through and he snarled in frustration. He stomped back to his original hiding place to look for the animal that lost him his food.

Leaves fell from branches, fluttering around him as he scanned the branches up above. A frantic fluttering of wings brought his attention a little to the left. It might have been a bird. Curiosity getting the best of him – as usual – he dropped his spear, seized a thick branch, placed a foot on the trunk and started to climb.

After a few good moments of climbing, he heard the flutter of wings again though this time accompanied by a distressed screech. He did not know why, but he was filled with a sense of dread which was followed by guilt when he caught sight of the bird.

It was such a tiny thing, blue, and caught in some twigs and a spider's web. Because of this, a rather large spider had decided that it would finally be time to eat. Scowling darkly, the hunter drew out a dagger and flung it at the ugly thing that screeched as the dagger imbedded itself into its chest and it fell to the forest ground.

The little blue bird began flapping its one free wing violently and the hunter simply cooed at it, soothing the animal. When it realized the hunter meant it no harm, the bird settled down, its black beady eyes staring at him intensely. The hunter smiled softly, still cooing at the bird and detangled it from its sticky and hurtful prison. As he did so, he found a wing to be broken, and so he brought the little bird close to his chest, cradling it in his palm – he could feel its heart-beat against his thumb, but he couldn't figure out why it felt odd to him – and climbed down with ease.

As soon as he landed, he picked up his spear, searched for the ugly creature and stabbed it again – twice in fact – when he found it still twitching. Satisfied, he brought his attention back to the little bird cradled in his hand.

The hunter frowned when he noticed two holes in its back, seeping blood and ooze. He brought his fingers to where he felt the birds heart beat and he understood. It was slowing down. The blue bird was dying.

The hunter sighed in dismay, shaking his head at the intense guilt and remorse that filled him. He did not understand why, but it hurt, and he had the terrible urge to cry for the little beasty. But he shook his head again, smiled softly, sadly, and stroked the birds head, cooing sweet words in his rough language as the little bird, in pain, but content and warm, died in his hands.

Canine and Feline

The wolf snapped and snarled at the tall animals that had a hold of her. Her growls did not deter them from whatever vendetta had set them upon her, yet she did not waver and she remained stubborn as always; she was the alpha female after all. Then something sharp bit her on her haunches and immediately she blacked out.

She woke up to hurtful light, but she was too tired to move. The animals with only two legs walked by her imprisonment and two even entered, carrying sacks and sharp things. She couldn't bite and she snarled and whined softly. She blacked out again.

She awoke slowly in a warm place and she adjusted herself to the new scents and sights that consumed her when she became fully aware of where she was. At first, she didn't want to move, but when a delicious scent filled her nostrils and her tummy rumbled, she stood to hunt. But she didn't really hunt. The "prey" she had smelled was already dead and red and bloody.

And so, for the next few months she followed this same pattern of waking up to food that she had to "hunt". The two-legged animals would create some kind of obstacle she had to go through and she had to guess that this was some kind of trick. It wasn't really hunting and she would sometimes feel humiliated. She had been a pack leader for howling out loud!

Perhaps this was all the vengeful trick of a fox whose mate she had eaten…

The only bright side was that she was never worried about catching her next meal. She was never starving anymore. But the two-legged beasts thought they were so clever. They thought they had her and the rest of her new pack trapped with no way out. She had found a way by watching and observing. The others may have no desire to leave – when they told her this, she howled in outrage, and she had snarled that they were no good, rotten and tamed wolves – but she was going to escape and regain the freedom she deserved.

She snorted in contempt. Her escape had been too easy, but she wasn't going to complain. It wasn't until she had found a way outside did she realize this would be harder than she initially felt. The two-leggeds shouted and she darted forward, away from the shouts behind her. For a while, she ran, hiding when she needed to, resting only when necessary, until she came across a place without those tall beasts swarming around like flies on a carcass.

She came upon an open enclosement, different from the ones for the snakes or fish creatures, and similar the one she had been trapped in. The scent emanating from the place was odd, just like everything else, but she became curious. She did not know why her instincts told her to do so, but she listened to them. Her instincts were always correct.

She went in one direction until she hopped onto an odd, flat rock and peered inside. She lowered her head, raising her ears and baring her teeth. Inside, lying on the bottom was an animal she had never seen before. A male, judging by his scent. The giant beast had thick fur around his throat and shoulders and chest. His paws were huge and his jaw larger than hers. Yet somehow she knew this beast would be no threat to her.

At that moment, the beast raised his head. His massive jaws opened in a yawn and his toes spread open. The beast shook his head and raised it to her. Their eyes met and that was all.

He said something to her, something in a language with a very vague resemblance to her own, but she thought there might have been the word 'idiot' in there. She growled in her throat, serving as a warning against mocking her. The beast yawned again.

Her instincts kicked in again, telling her to find a way in. She hesitated. She knew he wasn't a threat but… She looked at him again, curious to see he was now standing, looking back up at her with an odd gleam in his deep eyes. She understood immediately. Just as hers had, his instincts told him he needed to be closer to her.

So she found a way in.

He was still standing when she approached him fearlessly, seeing no others of his kind anywhere around. He wasn't that much taller than her, but he was thick and fat so if he tried to harm her in any way she knew she could outrun him.

He said something again, almost whining in his throat. She caught the words 'brave' and 'beast' and so she raised her head proudly at the compliment and tried to tell him she was the alpha wolf of her pack. He seemed amused by her actions and she growled in response, hackles raising and claws extending. He ignored her, yawned at her that he was the lion king of his pride. This, she understood. He was a leader, just as she was, who had been taken away from his pack, his pride, and dumped here.

But however much she trusted him, she still remained wary, circling the lion with her head low and watching him as he just lied back down, following her with his eyes and head and seemingly bored. She growled again, mildly furious and offended by his actions. This one had been a leader? Him? As far as she had seen, he was nothing but an arrogant and lazy beast! How dare he try to tell her he had once been so great! She made her best effort to get that message through to him, but whether he understood or not, she didn't really care. She just growled at him, ears perked forward and tail up.

Then the lion growled in his throat. He raised his head, ears perked up and mouth slightly open. She should have taken the action as a sign of a challenge, but her instincts kicked in again. She calmed a little, allowing herself to become more aware. She heard a crack. Then the lion stood up, moving faster than she had thought he could. He lunged at her and she couldn't find it in herself to move or even lunge back with her own teeth bared. She should have thought he was attacking her but she didn't.

There were two loud sounds and then the former lion king fell heavily to the ground near her like a falling tree. That scent she knew so well, had tasted so many times in her life filled the air, but then she felt a familiar sting biting her on her thigh and she blacked out.

When she awoke, she was trapped in a tight place with those too cold and too smooth pieces of wood that tasted like blood surrounding her. Tall and looming upon her sprawled body. For a while, she laid there, in the same spot.

When a two-legged came in with food for her, she ignored it. For the whole day she stayed in the same position, food left untouched until night fall, when the moon was high in the sky. Steadily she lifted herself until she was sitting. Her head was bowed and her ears were flat against her head, tail hidden under her. She raised her head and lifted her muzzle.

She howled night-long.

Homeless Pets

The two cats hid under a car for the night as water poured from the sky. It was still damp, but at least they were no longer soaked. They huddled together, licking each other clean until they were dry and then they curled together; softly, warm, breathing. They closed their eyes, noses touching and they fell into an uneasy sleep.

In the morning, when the rain died down and the engine of the car they were resting under roared to life, they fled into the bushes and stayed low to the ground. They wandered away carefully, swiftly. Their stomachs twisted painfully. It was time they looked for food and more suitable shelter.

Throughout the years, these two cats had quickly become known throughout the city. They were notorious for sneaking into houses at times where they hid under couches or behind shelves so they could have somewhere warm to sleep. They would eat the resident dog's or cat's food if they had the chance and if they knew they wouldn't get killed. They would streak through a family picnic, one distracting the family while the other swooped in and grabbed whatever it could.

They had been given names, in fact. They were unusual and by no means were they given by affection for the scrawny, flea-infested alley cats, but no one remembered how they had gotten their names in the first place. The cats themselves were not aware of that fact, as they couldn't understand what the people meant. It had just become a familiar sound, one each would hear with different tones and pitches, but they were always the same two sounds, and so that is what they went by. That is how they knew themselves.

The largest one, though he was still too thin, was named Miccy. The slightly older and smaller one was named Teacup.

As far as anyone was concerned, Miccy and Teacup had always been together. One was rarely seen without the other and if either were seen alone, within a matter of hours they would be spotted together once again; with either Teacup trying to groom Miccy or with Miccy trying to play with Teacup or with both of them butting heads affectionately, and curling around each other as best they could, sometimes as if they were trying to melt into each other.

Although most of the adults hated them, the children of the city grew up with those cats. No one knew exactly how old they were, but those children remembered them, so when that day came, even if they didn't really love those cats, they mourned for them.

No one was really sure what or how it had happened. All the people knew – when they finally caught sight of the growing crowd and joined the mass to see what all the commotion was about – was that Teacup was lying on the cement in the middle of the road with Miccy circling him, kneading his limp form and licking his dirty face. Occasionally the taller cat would mewl, bat at Teacup's head and then back off, trying to get him to play again.

Hours seemed to pass. Miccy still tried to wake Teacup. Eventually, after yowling so heartbreakingly loud, Miccy curled up around Teacup's now tiny form. When people finally tried to help them after they had obtained their footage, Miccy wouldn't let anyone near them, near Teacup. Even professional veterinarians or animal control didn't want to go near them.

A road block was set up around the pair. People thought it best to leave them be or wait until Miccy left to find food and move on so they could remove Teacup's bloody and stiff body. But Miccy never left his side and those same children who were now adults cried for them. A group of them collected money together so they could bury Miccy and Teacup in the pet cemetery together, the only graves resting under the fig tree for years.

Women

Fire roared and blazed. The crackling of the flames thundered and the walls of the abandoned and terribly aged building groaned in protest. A spray of embers lashed out viciously upon the two intruders responsible for its impending doom.

A large beam fell in between the two women who were then currently waiting for their foe's first move. The beam had been the signal and the two opposing women launched forward. A flurry of kicks and punches were sent flying with much practiced ease. They dodged a second beam as both steadily made their way into another, far worse room.

A gloved fist belonging to Alice connected with her opponent's temple, sending Allison tripping over a large chunk of rubble and effectively knocking her down. Alice moved forward to point a gun at the other's forehead.

Allison's dirty-blonde hair fell in wet strands over her smoldering blue eyes; eyes that glared defiantly into dark, dark eyes that glared right back. Strands were coming loose from Alice's tightly pulled back hair, hanging in her face or sticking to her sweat drenched forehead just as Allison's short hair was.

Around them, the building continued to crumble.

Alice was pushed forward due to something exploding behind her. She whirled around, hoping she wasn't about to be cornered. She hissed through her teeth. The only way out had just been blocked. But then she focused her attention back on the pinned blonde.

Just as she turned, an upper-cut to the jaw sent her falling. Her back hit a beam and she cried out in pain. She didn't let that stop her. She managed to dodge Allison's bare and scarred fist as it slammed down and crushed the burning beam into splinters.

Before Allison could send in another punch, she was kneed hard in the gut and an elbow slammed onto the nape of her neck. She fought through the dizziness and whirled a fist back around, not caring if she was punching blindly.

Luckily her fist connected with a jaw. She grinned cockily when she felt the jaw unhinge and maybe even fracture.

Time seemed non-existent in their chosen battle-field. The building should have collapsed on them, already, right? Or someone would have sent a team in to help Allison capture her enemy.

As it were, the two kept on fighting, undeterred by their decreasing space and oxygen that should have suffocated them both already. Each punch was filled with hatred; each kick was placed with fury, but not for each other, never for each other. Each bruise and every fractured bone was given with remorse, because they didn't want this. They didn't want to kill the other…

And then suddenly, without even realizing what she was actually doing, Allison somehow managed to unhook one cuff link and slam it around a slender wrist, satisfied at the sound of it locking into place.

Dark eyes became wide in shock. The eyes then flashed dangerously, the flames reflected into them only making Alice's fury even more potent. When Allison clicked the other end of the long-chained cuff onto her own wrist, she expected one of two reactions to occur:

The first, she expected the captured woman to howl in fury and attempt to reach for her gun – which had been knocked out of her hand a very long time ago – and shoot at her.

The second, she expected the other to start panicking and begging to be let go.

Allison sneered. It wouldn't be dignified for the "traitor", but Alice had never had a sense of true honor anyway.

Allison forgave her for that.

Neither of those followed, of course, which was why Allison forced down her own wave of utter shock when the "traitor" began to attempt delighted laughter. The blonde stared, eyes wide, as Alice choked violently in her botched attempt. Then she calmed down, straightened her body and leaned her head back.

Ocean-blue eyes made darker and wilder by the still roaring flames met with too dark emerald eyes, which were more than dancing with bitter amusement.

So Allison wanted to slap that stupid grin off her dirty and sweaty face. She knew what the other was doing. She was mocking her, challenging her, making fun of the decision she had made. The blonde knew the other was thinking her stupid. The blonde knew Alice didn't mean to direct it at her, though, because with a sinking sense of horror, Allison saw that Alice was trying not to cry or scream out her frustrations.

Both of their faces had now become a blank slate. Allison reached for one of her revolvers, opened the cylinder and refilled it. She repeated the process with her second revolver. She handed one to the other, who might have taken it a little too graciously.

As much as they could, they backed up, never taking their eyes off the other. So many things, so many untold confessions and whispers passed through their eyes at that moment, and they finally realized there was a way to escape this disastrous mess they had fallen into. And neither regretted the silent, strangely relieved agreement. When they were far enough apart, they raised their weapons and aimed at each other's head.

Both women could not speak. Both women could barely see. At the same time they clicked the hammer, fingers ready, eager even, to pull their triggers...

Their long abandoned, burning orphanage finally collapsed.

Once More

Ace Amir was proud to say Ann Gled was his.

They had known each other for a long time, but they didn't get along. Ace had a one-sided rivalry in the beginning and Ann had even gone as far as threatening his life, saying she would possess her Exert as soon as whoever-the-person-was and she Bonded their Ties, and promptly have him killed. Ace pointed out that Ann would be melted into cutlery and her Exert would be executed for being weak enough to allow his or herself to be possessed.

But then Ann was commissioned as _his_ Blade. _Ace_ would become her Exert.

To say they had disliked the situation would have been an understatement. Ace exploded after several moments of idiotically replaying their head Scabbard's orders in his head. Even Ann – regal, composed, emotionless Ann – had argued with the nearly four-thousand year old man, practically fought tooth and nail just to get him to say that _it was a joke. Gotcha!_ however foolish it might have been.

But she had no say in the matter. It all fell in Ace's hands.

Since it was his orders, Ace had no choice but to accept and soon his and Ann's Ties were Crossed. But Ace vowed, one day, he would cast Ann aside in favor of a hand chosen Blade. One fit for him. Someone like JP Ana or Ilia Tanuh or hell, maybe even Atria Laus or Oak Re of all people, he didn't actually care. As long as it wasn't her.

And then...

He remembered the very first battle they had been in together.

It had hit them both suddenly, the demon. Ace didn't want to cement their Crossed Ties into a Bond and neither did Ann. They thought they could handle it, not together, but alone. Not together like they should have been, but it was just a lowly demon.

So when Ann was thrust back mere meters from her Exert, when Ace's left arm and forehead were spilling blood, and when they realized even the both of them side-by-side couldn't handle the damn-stupid-shit-fuck thing (as Ann, surprisingly, so colorfully put it), they shot towards each other as the demon's own mangled arm shot for them.

It was a race against time, and however reluctant both partners were, they pushed themselves harder, arms outstretched, inches now, as a dark shadow passed over them. Then their fingertips brushed the others' like feathers.

It was enough.

In retrospect, Ace would only describe it as nothing short of epic. He felt power rushing through his veins, flood his body like a tsunami, and then there was the brilliant power pulsing in his hand (the other Exerts would taunt him in his description, but like they could talk). And even though Ace hated it at first, even though he wouldn't admit nor look Ann in the eyes for weeks after until their second and third and fourth battle, Ace could honestly say nothing had felt more right and simple.

In that moment, there was nothing and nobody but the Exert, the Blade, and the demon, which was cut down with an explosion of energy. Then everything changed. First it was days, then weeks, then months. Their Bond became tighter and stronger with every training session and every battle, eventually turning into a Bond that would define them both.

Ace forgot all about casting Ann aside. He was happy with his Blade, his best friend. If Ace could make Ann glow as bright as she did and become as powerful as she did, then Ace definitely wouldn't mind being the one to wield her 'till the day of their final battle.

The battle where they would stand, side by side, looking over the battle field. The battle where Ace would take Ann's hand one final time. The battle where they would say with their eyes what they never had a chance to say in words or act on. The battle where Ann would transform one final time and the battle where Ace would charge in with a battle-cry.

The battle where they wouldn't have to be separated from each other, killed because their love for each other was considered an abomination.

The battle where she wouldn't be foolish enough to fall into a monster's trap.

The battle where he wouldn't be forced to protect her and sacrifice his own life.

The battle where he wouldn't be confused as to what had happened to his life-long partner and try to wake them up.

The battle where they wouldn't resort to kill each other in order to escape the duties and chains keeping them apart.

The battle where they would die together, until they were reborn again.

Until they could find a life where they could live and love and grow together at last.

**XxXxXx**

**A/N: Hey guys! Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it. I've seen these types of things floating around; a Naruto version (which, unfortunately, I can't remember or find) and another for USUK that I loved to death called **The Same Sky **by **Last Haven **(Am I allowed to do that? O_O" Crap!). I really love the idea of Soul-mates even though I'm unsure how much I truly believe in it myself.**

**Anyway, as I said – or wrote? – in the top A/N, there are a handful of allusions and references I make in each part, specifically in the last four parts. Since there would be too much to write in the Author's Notes, I would be glad to answer any guesses or questions you may have. I am very curious to see what you guys picked up on and/or think!**


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